


From First Principles

by flyingwyvern



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingwyvern/pseuds/flyingwyvern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Writing this was a bad idea. On hiatus, will probably delete soon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Divergence

**Author's Note:**

> A few months back, I saw a post on tumblr, a "what-if" detailing all the brilliant issues that LoK could have tackled, but didn't. I've lost the link to that post, but it stuck in my mind. LoK could have been a brilliant, boundary-pushing story about Serious Issues; instead, they all got swept aside in a hasty finale. I want to explore the bigger problems of Republic City: the true oppression of non-benders, the meaning of the Avatar, bender privilege, social justice in an age of industrial revolution. Grand hopes, yes. Let's see if I can live up to them.

“Now for a demonstration,” the masked figure on stage intoned. “Please welcome…Lightning Bolt Zolt.”

Korra clenched her fists and stared up at the stage as the subdued gang leader was dragged forward. True, Zolt was clearly a scumbag, a bender who abused his powers, just as the Equalists were claiming. But if Amon’s claims were true…

Minutes later, she had her confirmation. Zolt feebly thrust out a fist, but no flames burst forth. It couldn’t have been a simple bluff, a run-of-the-mill bit of chi-blocking. Not only had she seen Amon do it—there had been no tell-tale strikes to his arm muscles—but more to the point, if this wore off in a few hours or even days, Zolt would make sure that everyone would hear about it.

Korra swallowed hard. She’d always known that this power existed. But Avatar Aang had been the only one ever known to possess it, and he’d used it only once, for indisputably noble reasons. To see it being wielded as a weapon, here, was frightening beyond belief.

“We have to save Bolin,” she whispered to Mako. He nodded curtly.

“We can’t just rush in there,” he whispered back. “There’s too many of them!”

Mako proposed the idea of the steam distraction, and Korra agreed; it was a good plan. She slipped through the ranks of Equalist sympathizers— _so many of them_ , she thought, troubled—and into a side corridor. It didn’t take her too long to discover the pipes, and what looked like control valves designed to regulate pressure. She pulled hard on the wheel, and was rewarded by a thin trickle of steam. _It’s not enough._

“Hey! You!”

Korra turned. A lithe older man, clad in nondescript worker’s clothes, glared at her. “What’re you doing back here?”

“Umm…looking for the bathroom?”

He lunged for her, brandishing a wrench wildly. Korra dodged, twisting under his blows. He was fast. When he lurched past her and stumbled into one of the pipes, an idea struck her and she smiled. _Might as well kill two birds with one stone._

The next time he attacked her, she trapped his wrench in her scarf and turned his own momentum against him. He went flying into the pipes. They cracked under his weight, and steam screeched as it billowed out. The man groaned feebly. “That’ll do it,” Korra announced cheerfully. She bent the steam out of her way and stepped past him. She had to find Bolin and Mako.

“Bender!” the man gasped indignantly. Korra turned, startled to find that he was still there. 

“What are you—”

She’d underestimated him. He was on his feet again, and this time when he rushed her, he didn’t bother with the wrench. Korra scowled, whipping water from her hip pouch. She might as well finish this quickly—

He dodged her water whip and ducked under her guard, too fast, and Korra felt her stomach plummet as his fingers stabbed quickly at her arms. _No!_

She tried to retreat, but it was too late. The man pressed forward, smiling grimly, and jabbed her again, this time going for her legs and shoulders. Korra cried out and pitched forward. The man grabbed her by her ponytail and smiled. “Another target for tonight,” he purred. “Amon will be pleased.”

 

————

 

He dragged her out onto the stage. Korra was gratified to see that Bolin, at least, wasn’t here. Had he escaped during the chaos of her fight with the guard? Had Mako gotten him out safely?

Her escort threw her down onto the hard wooden platform and Korra grunted as her knees struck the floor. She glared up at Amon. Up close, he looked much more intimidating than he had from afar, though she’d have been loathe to admit it. “Amon,” she spat.

“Avatar Korra,” he returned. She knew it was just a mask, but still, that awful face of his seemed to mock her.

The crowd was gone, having fled when the steam exploded through the wall. The stage was empty, save for them and the miserable ex-gang leaders. Korra only needed to look at their huddled forms to know that they’d been stripped of their bending.

It took all her willpower not to flinch when Amon grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at him. “I hadn’t planned on confronting you so soon,” he mused. “But it’s not every day that the spirits give me such a wonderful gift. I can only assume that they intended for my men to capture you tonight.”

She scowled at him. “You’re deluded, if you think the spirits are on your side,” she retorted.

“Mmm.” Amon hummed noncommittally. “It’s a shame that we’ll have to do this without any pomp and ceremony. You’d make for a wonderful rally. But I shouldn’t pass up this opportunity.” His fingers still on her chin, he reached with his other hand to press his thumb and forefinger against Korra’s forehead. “It was wonderful to make your acquaintance, Avatar.”

The fear hadn’t really hit her until then. She’d held it at bay with adrenaline and impotent rage. But she’d seen him take Zolt’s bending, had heard the firebender’s miserable cries. Knowing what this meant, Korra felt her bravado collapse. Her mouth went dry.

“No—!”

It was too late. She felt the energy coursing through Amon’s fingers, felt her own internal connection to her spiritual energy snap like dry kindling. He let go, and she collapsed to the floor, tears in her eyes. _No_.

“Take her away,” Amon commanded. “Leave her somewhere so that she’ll be found. Do her no harm.”

As Amon’s men lifted her by the elbows, Korra felt rage and sorrow burning in her belly. _I will come for you_ , she vowed, fighting tears. _Bending or no bending, I will take you down._


	2. Breaking

Korra woke up on the shores of Air Temple Island. Her head throbbed painfully. The memories of the previous night hit her all at once. Hands trembling, Korra lifted her arms and tried firing a punch into the air. No flames burst from her fist. She tried again, this time with a sweeping waterbending gesture, and again, with a hard earthbender’s punch. Instead of the usual rush of power, the sense of seamlessly flowing energy, she felt like her energy was trapped behind a dam. It was like trying to sneeze with clothespins around your nose.

Korra started to cry. Jinora found her soon after.

 

* * *

 

Tenzin wrapped her in a blanket and sat down beside her. “We’ve summoned a waterbender from the city,” he told her. “The best healer I could find. And I set a telegram to Katara. If you want to go home, we will arrange it immediately. Or you can stay here, and she’ll come immediately, if you want. You don’t have to decide now.” The older man wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sorry, Korra.”

Korra leaned into his embrace. She felt drained, and no wonder: if she’d cried any more, she thought that she’d have shriveled up like a prune. “I wish you’d been there, Tenzin,” she said. Her voice was raw and hoarse. “I mean—you’d have known what to do.”

He rubbed her shoulder. “Can you tell me what it was like?”

She told him. After she finished her story, Korra blurted, “I’ve never been so scared in my life. He was…so confident, Tenzin. Fearless. And he has reason to be.”

Tenzin nodded. “I had no idea that Amon possessed such powers,” he said. “This makes the Equalists far more dangerous than we had ever thought. I sympathize with their cause, but…”

“You _sympathize_ with them?” Korra wasn’t sure if she’d heard correctly.

“With their _cause_ , yes.” Tenzin sighed. “You’ve only been in Republic City for a short time, Korra. Have you noticed the state of things?”

She thought about the bender gangs. “But those Triad thugs—surely the police hunt them down? That’s a law-and-order issue, not benders versus non-benders.”

“It’s not just the triads, though yes, they are an issue. Political representation, membership in the police force…among other problems. If you want, I can set up a meeting with one of my colleagues, Yvonne. She’s a non-bender advocate, opposed to Amon but fighting for much the same ends. You’d like her, I think.”

Korra considered that. Tenzin was right: she hadn’t been in Republic City long at all. _And already, I’ve screwed everything up._ Korra looked down and flexed her hands. “Tenzin.”

“Yes?”

“I’m…” She hesitated, then tried again. “I’m no longer the Avatar, am I?”

Articulating it hurt more than she had expected. Her eyes watered again, and she blinked away the tears, furious with herself. _Haven’t I cried enough yet?_

But it was true, and she needed to face it. The Avatar was supposed to be the master of all four elements, brining them into harmony and balancing the world in the process. Who had ever heard of a non-bender Avatar? She was useless now.

“Oh, Korra.” Tenzin hugged her tight. “You are so much more than your bending. You are still the Avatar, bending or no. And besides,” he added, smiling down at her, “don’t give up yet. We have no proof that what Amon did to you was permanent.”

She tried to smile back. “Thanks, Tenzin.” She knew he was just comforting her because it was all he could do. What choice did any of them have?

 

* * *

 

She hadn’t expected the healer to be able to help. So why did it still hurt, when her chi remained blocked?

Korra barely listened as the healer stammered his apologies and bowed his way out. Yes, she had expected this outcome. What was more surprising was that, as the shock faded and she focused more on her body, she thought she could still feel her bending. It was like being hit by a chi-blocker, except it felt more final. When she mentioned the sensation to Tenzin, he perked up. “Amon blocked you, then, instead of removing your bending entirely,” he said, sounding relieved. “If that’s the case, you can possibly learn to unblock it.” He smiled at her. “Maybe you won’t get out of that spiritual training I’d planned for you after all.”

Korra tried to laugh at the weak joke, and failed. To think that yesterday, she’d _complained_ about airbending training.

She needed to get away from the island. Korra stepped outside and gazed at the Air Acolytes meditating in the courtyard. They followed the teachings of the Air Nomads of Avatar Aang’s childhood, but without any of the bending. She wondered what it was like, to live a philosophy like that without any of the abilities that were its foundation. Shaking her head, she whistled for Naga, and mounted up. 

 

* * *

 

Mako and Bolin rushed out to greet her before she even made it inside the Arena. “Korra!” Bolin yelped. “You’re here! You’re safe!” He lunged at her, arms wide, and Korra laughed as he enfolded her in a hug. 

“We were worried,” Mako said. Before he’d seemed reluctant to interact with her, but now genuine concern darkened his eyes and furrowed his brow. “When we couldn’t find you after that distraction…”

“Well, I’m here now,” Korra said, forcing herself to smile for them. “Bolin, are you…are you okay?”

Bolin grinned. “I got a few bruises, but that’s all,” he said. “Big brother saved me, as usual.”

“You should thank Korra, too,” Mako told him. Addressing Korra, he said, “If it wasn’t for your distraction, I never would have got him out of there.”

To her intense shame, Korra felt the bitter stirrings of resentment in her throat. She swallowed, hard. She’d known the risks, going in. She hadn’t stopped to think about what the consequences would actually mean. 

“Korra?” Bolin asked. “Are you all right?”

That was all it took. “Fine,” she gasped, but she wasn’t; she’d started crying again. Korra hiccuped and tried to laugh. The noise came out much more bitterly than she’d intended. “I’m as fine as I can be,” she amended. “I…he got me, guys.”

She wondered how many times she’d have to confess this. Bolin hugged her again, fiercely, and Mako squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Mako said, and Bolin murmured, “Oh, Korra.”

She stopped trying to stem the flow, and let herself sob. They’d understand, both of them; wasn’t bending their life, too? The resentment faded from her, flowing away along with her tears. It wasn’t Mako or Bolin’s fault that any of this had happened. It was Amon’s. 

 _Amon_. She hadn’t forgotten her vow.

“Tenzin said I could consider running home,” she said at last. “But I can’t. I have to take him down…”

The brothers didn’t need to ask who ‘he’ was. “Come on,” Bolin said firmly. “I know a great ramen place. My treat. We can plan our revenge there.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bolin was smarter than he seemed, Korra thought. For all that he affected a goofy grin and acted like a complete clown, he paid attention. Today he played up his usual act more than usual, but Korra found herself touched by the little things. He somehow knew her favorite type of ramen, and after he whispered to the musicians in the corner they took a break from jazzy melodies and switched to an old Water Tribe song that felt like home. “What did you tell them?” Korra wondered aloud.

“That it’s your birthday.” Bolin wrapped her in yet another hug. “C’mon, don’t think so terribly of me that I’d spill all your secrets to a bunch of strangers.”

She had to smile at that. Mako rolled his eyes. His expression was softer than she was accustomed to. Up until last night, she hadn’t seen Mako’s gentler side, but she’d been impressed by his fierce defense of his baby brother. Now, feeling a similar sentiment as he gazed at her made her stomach twist.

“I guess I can’t be part of the Fire Ferrets anymore, huh,” she said. It wasn’t really a question, but the unspoken part was: _so are we still friends?_

She’d never had friends, not in the usual sense. Oh, as a very young girl, she’d played with her kin in the tribes. But after that, she’d been The Avatar, all her time filled with training and practice. The other Water Tribe kids had learned to treat her with respect, which was nice, but it wasn’t the same as friendship. Korra had learned to enjoy the company of adults, rather than that of friends her own age. She didn’t really know how this worked.

Mako shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “We’ll be all right.” He smiled at her, and her belly did that fluttery thing again. “But hey, now we have a new thing to occupy us, right, Bolin?”

Bolin nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “I figure Amon matters more than some lousy competition.”

Their words sent warmth and affection coursing through her. She’d only known these boys for a short time, yet here they are, supporting her seemingly unconditionally. “Right,” Korra said, only a little surprised by her tight throat. She cleared it and reached out to grasp their hands. “Then I’m nominating you two as my primary investigative partners! If you’re interested, of course,” she added.

“Woo-hoo!” Bolin punched the air. “Time to kick some Equalist butt!”

Korra rolled her eyes and slurped another mouthful of noodles. Some of the ramen shop’s other patrons glanced at them askance. 

“I’m all for it,” Mako said mildly. “What Amon’s doing is wrong. But I’ve got a few reservations. First, isn’t there an official force doing the same? Or shouldn’t there be?”

“Oh.” That hadn’t occurred to Korra. “Does it matter? We can just do our own thing.”

“But this isn’t some Avatar legend where you just have to win a battle,” Mako reminded her. “This is about people’s lives. You’re new to Republic City, you don’t get what it’s like here. This is as much about politics as it is about anything else.”

Korra made a face and flicked a noodle at him. Mako caught it, frowning. “I’m not interested in politics,” she told him impatiently. “I’m interested in _revenge._ ”

“Is that what the Avatar’s about?” Mako asked her. “Revenge? Or balance? I’m just saying, Amon’s not really the dangerous one. Killing or capturing him would get you revenge, but it wouldn’t solve the real problem: he’s _popular_. That’s the danger. Why are people supporting him? Did you hear the applause after he took Zolt’s bending away?”

It sounded rhetorical, but Korra rolled her eyes and pounced anyway. “Because they’re jealous,” Korra said flatly. “They just don’t get the bending is, is something important, and—”

“Just think about it,” Mako said, his tone disturbingly gentle. “And more importantly, remember that you’re the Avatar. That’s a political position, whether you like it or not. You have to _think_ , Korra.” 

“Go easy on her,” Bolin protested. “She’s had a long day.”

Korra scowled and opened her mouth, about to retort that she didn’t _do_ patience and caution and all of that old-fart hand-wringing. Then she looked down at her own hands. She cupped her left hand, twisted it, and opened her palm again, feeling the dull throb of blocked chi where there should have been a flame.

She _hadn’t_ been that kind of girl, and look where it had gotten her.

“All right,” she said through gritted teeth, “fine. I’ll think about it.”

Mako looked relieved. Bolin smiled nervously at both of them. “Good,” he said. “So, tomorrow we can go to the police and find out what they know, and then we can decide what to do next. Maybe infiltrate another meeting?”

Korra shuddered. “ _I_ can infiltrate another meeting,” she said. “I’m not sure you two should come along.”

Bolin frowned. “But—“

“We can argue about it tomorrow,” Mako suggested. He squeezed Korra’s shoulder and stood. “You should probably get some sleep. You look dead on your feet.” 

She _did_ feel tired, Korra realized. It probably had something to do with having spent all of last night bawling her eyes out. Where there had been a raw, savage pain, now she felt a dull ache. It was still awful, and it still hurt, but at least things weren’t as bad as they could be. Bender or no, she had friends, and she had a game plan.

“Deal,” she said.

 

—

 

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Korra pulled herself out of bed with a groan. It was too early. Way, way too early.

But she had to try.

Tenzin had proposed, earlier, that what she was dealing with was a chi-block, not a true removal of her bending—and if that was true, then like Avatar Aang, she could potentially overcome it. And that meant spiritual training. 

 _I should have known_ , she thought grumpily. _Even without my bending, I still can’t escape training._

For a moment the internal joke made her throat tighten and her eyes water. She forced herself to swallow the pain and  walked down to the pavilion. Tenzin and Jinora were there already, eyes closed and chests rising and falling in tandem. She joined them as quietly as she could manage.

This early in the morning, the stone floor was painfully cold, and her nose wouldn’t stop itching, but Korra closed her eyes anyway and tried to clear her mind. Instead, visions of Amon filled the backs of her eyelids: his terrifying mask, his cold voice, the feeling of fingertips pressed against her neck and forehead—

Korra’s eyes flew open. For a few dizzying minutes she blinked wildly, unable to clear the terrible memories, but then her mind cleared and she could meet Tenzin’s eyes. He was gazing at her, eyes unreadable, from across their small circle. Korra blushed and closed her eyes again, chastising herself.

 _You are a smooth lake,_ she intoned mentally in Tenzin’s voice. _You are a smooth lake, reflecting, unmoving,_ quiet.

This time, she tried to focus on the flow of her chi. The spiritual stuff had never been her strong suit, but Korra wondered if it was _always_ this difficult to find her chi. It was there, though, as it had to be—she was still alive, after all, she reminded herself. When she managed to grasp it, it felt—different, somehow. Thinner, slower. Or was it? Korra wished fiercely that she hadn’t neglected her meditation so much, before. Now it was hard to tell what was just a trick of her miserable imagination.

At last Tenzin called a break. Korra opened her eyes, surprised; the time had passed relatively quickly. They walked down to the kitchen in search of breakfast in companionable silence. As Korra ducked through the door, her eyes went wide. They had a guest. “Councilman Tarrlok!” she said.

Pema did _not_ look pleased. Tenzin’s wife was standing by the counter with her arms crossed and her lips pursed. Tarrlok, meanwhile, was sitting at the table with a plate of eggs. Ah. Korra could add one and one to get two; clearly Tarrlok had taken advantage of the “no airbender turns away a hungry visitor” rule.

“Good morning, Avatar,” he said, standing up to bow to her. As always, his voice was as oily as his hair. “I apologize for the intrusion—”

“As you _should_ ,” Tenzin grumbled behind her.

“—But I’d heard about your awful encounter with Amon, and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

Korra frowned. She hadn’t interacted with Tarrlok too much yet, but his solicitousness unsettled her, as did Tenzin’s stiffness when dealing with the man. Still, she needed information from him about Amon, too. “It’s okay, Tenzin,” she told her mentor. “We do need to talk.” She turned to Pema. “Pema, do you mind us talking in the kitchen? I’m famished.”

The woman’s sharp eyes flicked to Tenzin, then back to Korra. She smiled. “Of course not, Korra,” Pema said. “Jam or butter for your toast?”

 Korra took a seat at the table across from Tarrlok; Tenzin sat to her right. She waited until they each had a mug of tea and a steaming plate of toast with eggs before saying, “So. What exactly have you heard?”

“That he stripped you of your bending.” Tarrlok didn’t cushion the blow, and even though she’d expected it, Korra still winced. “I…” He spread his hands. “I did not want to believe it, but…”

Korra nodded. “It’s true,” she said. She kept her voice as calm and authoritative as she could manage. Korra didn’t want pity, especially not from strangers. If Tarrlok noticed that her voice wobbled a little,  he had the grace not to point it out. 

“Tenzin has told the council, but it’s not public knowledge yet,” Tarrlok said. “I didn’t want this to be an attack, so rather than bring you to a stuffy council meeting, I thought I’d pay a house call myself.” He cleared his throat. “This means that Amon is far more dangerous than previously thought. I’ve been warning the council about the Equalist threat for months now. This could finally make them listen to me, finally give us cause to undertake direct offensives against the Equalists.”

That sounded perfect to Korra, though judging by Tenzin’s squirming, he wasn’t particularly happy about it. “You want to use my story to prompt political action,” she said, just to make sure she was clear.

Tarrlok nodded eagerly. “Imagine,” he said. “The press conference: Avatar Korra announces a shocking attack! Amon destroying benders’ powers, and robbing us of our avatar! Avatar Korra announcing that she’d down but not out—she’ll lead the task force and help us hunt down these terrorists!” He leaned back. “What do you think, Avatar?”

“I like it,” Korra said slowly. “Down but not out. Yeah.” Mentally, she played back the words in the pro-bending radio announcer’s voice. _Time for a comeback!_

“Task force?” Tenzin spoke up for the first time, his sharp voice recalling Korra to the present conversation. “What do you intend to do, Tarrlok?”

The politician shrugged. “We have suspicions about a number of Equalist targets,” he said. “Strongholds, places where they train chi-blockers or stockpile weapons. With emergency powers we can go after them, shut them down.”

“That sounds good to me,” Korra said. Tenzin’s hands twitched. Before he could interrupt, she continued, “I won’t just be following you around like some convenient totem of Avatar-endorsement, you know. I want a say in what the task force does, and all that. I want access to the intelligence reports you’re talking about.” She didn’t really know anything about politics, Korra admitted to herself, but she would figure it out. If she was going to be the justification for the task force’s existence, then she had a duty to understand what they were doing.

He smiled at her. “I’m glad that we have an understanding, Avatar Korra,” he said, reaching out to extend a hand to her. Korra shook it, firmly.

To her right, she thought she could hear Tenzin groan. She’d need to talk to him about this later. But really, wasn’t this a good thing? It meant tackling the problem, and facing forward. It sounded like just what the healer had ordered: a healthy way to keep occupied…

She could deal with Tenzin’s lectures later.


	4. Chapter 4

Korra had accurately predicted Tenzin’s reaction. She didn’t understand the airbender’s fierce opposition to Tarrlock; nor did she understand his apparent sympathy for the Equalist supporters, if not the Equalists themselves. “You have to try to understand,” he’d insisted, again and again. Korra didn’t know what she was supposed to try to understand. How could any of them think that robbing people of their bending was a _good_ thing? It was like, like celebrating amputations. 

Eventually Tenzin relented, after extracting a promise from Korra that she’d at least ask his counsel on task force activities. Korra felt like she owed him at least that much. And besides, Tenzin understood politics in an intuitive way. Only pondering the radio’s cheerful, continuous broadcasts made her think that political savvy would be a useful skill. In a city like this, all news was third- or fourth-hand; impressions and opinions would _matter_ in a way that they couldn’t in the small Water Tribe. 

He’d also made her promise to meet with his friend—a “non-bender advocate,” whatever that meant. Korra had shrugged and acquiesced. It would almost certainly be a waste of time, but then, she had a lot of time lately.

The next morning, Korra rose early for meditation. This time she managed to arrive at the same time as Tenzin and Jinora. Her new attention to meditation again went unremarked, and Korra threw herself into it. Before long she was struggling not to gnash her teeth and hit things. Meditation wasn’t like fighting, or bending; she couldn’t just slam her head against a wall until she improved. Instead, the harder she tried, the more that sense of inner clarity slipped through her fingers. The only thing that kept her seated, hands curling into fists on her knees, was the steady ache where her bending used to be.

When Tenzin called a halt, Korra opened her eyes and sighed. This was really not the kind of practice that she enjoyed.

A note from Tarrlok was waiting for her on the kitchen table; it had been delivered with the morning’s mail. Korra opened it, frowning. It was an invitation to a press conference, to announce the new task force. “It’s tomorrow,” she told Tenzin.

Her teacher hummed. “All right,” he said. “Be careful, Korra. The press is _not_ your friend, you know. They’ll want to ask you about your…encounter…with Amon.”

She hated the way he talked around that night. “I know,” she said. “It’s okay.” Korra smiled crookedly. “I can use it, anyway,” she said. “It makes for a good start to a revenge story.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Tenzin said. His voice had sunk into that I’m-an-old-grumpy-codger lecturing tone. “The Avatar can’t be focused on revenge, Korra, it isn’t right.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “Don’t worry about me. But the press will still eat it up, right?”

Tenzin sighed again. Korra smiled fondly and clapped him on the shoulder on her way out.

 

——

 

Her days were empty without bending practice, and after morning meditation she was itching for some activity. Korra took Naga on a walk through the city.  Safe from her high vantage point, Korra took the opportunity to really observe. She was still getting used to the sheer scale and size of things. The roads were crowded with speeding Satomobiles, more traditional carriages, and pedestrians alike, and nobody seemed to quite agree on the rules for getting along. Korra guided Naga into the thick of it, peering down with interest. Only the most absurdly gaudy carriages were on a similar height. 

On one level, the city was dazzling, full of delights and new inventions. The Satomobiles and their built-in radios were incredible, as were the towering skyscrapers and humming electric lines. Looking down, though, Korra noted the vast numbers of pan-handlers with unease. Plenty of them were kids, or old, or visibly disabled. The Southern Water Tribe would never force a vulnerable member to fend for themselves like that; orphan children were placed with other families, and everyone pitched in to care for those unable to work due to old age or infirmity. When an old woman in rags approached with an outstretched cup, Korra didn’t wait for her to ask. She reached into her pockets and dug out some change, wishing that she had more. “Take care, grandmother,” she said. 

The old woman smiled at her. “Spirits bless, Avatar,” she replied. Korra shook her head. She didn’t feel particularly blessed at the moment.

She stopped Naga in front of a small herb shop and dismounted. If she was going to wander around, she might as well make herself useful; she knew that Pema was running short on some supplies. Inside, the shop was dim and crowded, its shelves filled with jars of obscure, pickled items, bundles of dried herbs, and small vials of powdered supplies, all labeled in minute handwriting. Korra smiled, breathing in the musty smell of plant matter. For her, herb shops brought to mind friendly healers and cozy infirmaries.

“Hullo,” a voice called, from behind the shelves. “I can assist you, just give me one moment, please.” 

“Take your time,” Korra replied, leaning down to inspect a jar that claimed to contain buffalo-yak blubber. What would you use _that_ for?

A few minutes later, the diminutive shopkeeper appeared, panting. “Sorry,” he said, “I was just putting away a new shipment. How can I help you?”

Korra told him what she was looking for, and the small man led her briskly down the aisles. As they turned a corner, Korra noticed a small child hurriedly ducking into a different aisle. “Who’s that?” she asked.

“Hmm? Oh, you mean Gila. She’s a family friend.” The shopkeeper smiled, a little sadly. “I’m looking after her, since her parents aren’t…available.”

Korra frowned. She wasn’t sure what was behind that euphemism, but it wasn’t her place to ask. At least there was _some_ proof of community spirit here.

The bell on the door clattered, and the shopkeeper looked up. “Hey!” The voice was feminine, with the rough accent Korra was beginning to associate with Republic City’s poorer folk. “Old man Lou, are you here?”

“Yes,” the shopkeeper—Lou, Korra noted—replied, raising his voice. “Just a moment.” Urgently, he turned to Korra. “Keep _quiet_ , and stay here,” he ordered her in a low voice. Korra frowned. Lou scurried away, and she followed slowly, crouching out of sight behind a display of soup flavorings in the front of the shop. 

“Is the kid here?” the stranger’s voice demanded. 

“No,” Lou said. “I have no idea where she is, I’m sorry, have you asked her aunt—“

“He lies,” a second, masculine voice said calmly. To Korra’s horror she heard a gurgling sound, like someone choking. As she stood, she saw the girl from earlier—Gila—peeking out from behind another display. The girl’s eyes were wide, her golden irises shimmering in the dim light. Her hands were shaking.

Korra put a finger to her lips. Gila nodded, her face far too solemn for her age. Steeling herself, Korra stepped out to face the newcomers. There were two of them, a pale, skinny man and a burly, dark-skinned woman. The woman had Lou by the throat. “Hey,” she said, conversationally.

The man’s eyebrows shot up. “Well,” he said. “If it isn’t the Avatar.”

“Let him go,” Korra said. 

The woman laughed. “As though you have any authority around here,” she sneered. She turned, wrapping the shopkeeper in a headlock so that they were both facing Korra. “Now, you just go mind your own business, you hear?”

“I’m fine,” Lou wheezed. “Fine, Avatar.”

She refused to dignify that with a response. “Maybe it’s none of my business,” she said, “but I’m sure Chief Beifong would be interested.”

Both newcomers sniggered at that. Korra didn’t get was so funny. Still snickering, the man said, “If you think the police care about the Triads, you’ve got another thing coming, Avatar. Why don’t you study up a bit before you come sticking your neb in our private affairs?”

Korra narrowed her eyes. The man didn’t seem like an ordinary thug; he’d be a bender, then. As for the woman, she looked more like ordinary muscle, but that wasn’t a guarantee. At least she didn’t have any weapons that Korra could see. She wondered if they’d heard that she’d lost her bending. If she was lucky, they might still think that she was a threat.

“Think fast,” she chirped, sliding into a crouch. When she whipped her leg upward, she was gratified to see the skinny man jerk backwards and raise a flame shield. Instead of lunging at him, she reversed her kick and struck upwards at the woman’s jaw. The woman thrust Lou aside and dodged backwards, barely avoiding Korra’s kick. Korra’s eyes flicked over to Lou, who was sprawled in a pile with fallen jars. _Sorry_ , she thought, miserably.

Her mental apology was cut short by the firebender, who lunged forwards, his hands wreathed in flame. Korra cursed and leapt aside, goosebumps rising on her skin as she felt the searing heat radiating from his hands. Her back pressed against the wall. “What’s wrong, girl?” the firebender demanded. “Where are your oh-so-scary Avatar skills?”

“Not worth wasting on you,” she retorted. Interesting; he was keeping his fire in careful check. Probably, they didn’t want the whole street to go up in flames. Could she use that to her advantage?

 _Think, Korra!_ If she had her bending, she’d be able to waterbend her way out of this with her hands behind her back, literally.

“You’re bluffing,” the man said, his voice almost…surprised. What was he, some sort of truth-seer? The woman chuckled, raising her fists. “This will be quick, then,” she said.

“Naga!” Korra yelled.

She didn’t have her bending, but she at least had her oldest and most loyal friend. Naga, who had been waiting patiently outside, stuck her head inside the shop, tearing timbers from their frame. The thugs yelped as the polar bear-dog assessed the situation and turned her attention to them, growling. “Naga, grab,” Korra said, infusing her voice with as much pretended calm as she could manage. Naga clamped her teeth around the leg of the firebender and bore down. “If you firebend, she’ll take that limb off, in a panic if nothing else,” Korra warned him. “Now leave this shop alone.”

The firebender rattled off a string of curses that Korra actually found quite inventive. The burly woman appraised her thoughtfully. “Recruiting isn’t worth this trouble,” she said at last. “We’ll be back later though, mark my words.”

Korra tried very hard not to sigh in relief. “Back out, then,” she said. “And then Naga will let your firebender go.”

The woman backed away as instructed, hands raised in front of her. Naga shuffled backwards into the street and let go of the firebender’s leg with a reluctant growl. Korra followed them out, her arms crossed over her chest. She noted that they had no audience; the windows on this street were suddenly all shuttered, and the vendors hawking goods from carts had evacuated the block.

“Clever trick, that dog,” the woman said evenly. “Seems to me that relying on her’s a bad idea, though. What’s wrong, Avatar? Are you chi-blocked or something?”

“Just get out of here,” Korra said.

“As you wish.” The woman bared her teeth in a semblance of a smile. “My name’s Mora, of the Agni Kai triad. I suggest you remember us, and keep out of our business. Next time, we might feel like making a fuss.” Mora’s eyes narrowed. “As for now…”

Korra blamed herself for not seeing the woman’s hand dart out, snakelike in its speed and ferocity. She yelped as she felt hot metal sear the flesh of her forearm.

“Remember us,” Mora hissed, and then they were gone.

Long minutes later, Lou crept out of the shop and found Korra sitting in the street. She cradled her right forearm gently, prodding the burned flesh with her left hand. The woman—Mora—had left a single character burned into Korra’s skin. She recognized it; it was Agni Kai’s sigil, borrowed from the word for the ritual combat practice itself. She must’ve been a firebender, too, Korra realized; she just didn’t show it ’til she needed to. Naga licked her shoulder, whimpering softly.

“Avatar?” Lou’s voice was uncertain. Korra looked up at him. He hovered over her, eyes unreadable. “I…thank you, for what you tried to do. It’s no good, you know.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” Korra told him. “I botched it.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “Still, I appreciate the intent. Can I see your arm?”

The skin was black. Lou whistled softly as he looked at it. “Is it true, what they said?” he asked. “You don’t have your bending?”

“It’s true.”

“Then I can treat this with some ointments, until you can get a healer to see it.” She appreciated his brisk, pragmatic manner. “Come along.”

Inside, she stared gloomily at the mark as Lou treated it. “It’s like a cattle brand,” she said, unable to keep the pout from her voice. “I shouldn’t have been so _stupid_.”

“What they want, they take.” Lou rolled up his sleeve to show her a matching mark on his own arm. “They put it there as a warning, both to you and to the other triads. You, so you know that next time they’ll burn you hard. The other triads, to stay away from their prey.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“That’s life,” he countered. He tied off a bandage and patted her on the shoulder. “We still appreciate the effort, Gali and I.”

Korra had noticed that the girl was nowhere to be seen. “Why did they want her?” she asked.

Lou sighed. “She’s only ten,” he said, “but she’s a bit too talented for her own good. Her parents are chi-blockers. They’ve gone underground, because these days it’s dangerous, but she’s got a knack for it, and she trains hard.” His smile was sad, tinged with grief and grim resilience. “They thought they were preparing her to defend herself, and in some ways they were right, but it makes her a recruitment target for the triads.”

“Oh.” Korra shivered; if those were their “recruitment” tactics, she could understand why Gali was hiding. “Why do her parents need to hide, though? I don’t understand.”

He looked at her with surprise and—Korra swallowed—a faint edge of disappointment. “Didn’t you know?” he asked her. “Chi-blocking was made illegal two years ago.”

Korra had to admit that she hadn’t known. Shaking his head, Lou ushered her out. “Don’t worry about us,” he told her. “I’ll find Gali somewhere else to rest, until they give up on her.”

“If you ever need a safe place, come to Air Temple Island,” she said, the words rushing from her. “I mean—it’s not much, and I know you won’t want to leave your homes, but—it’s the least I can offer.”

Lou’s eyebrows shot up, but to her relief he accepted the offer graciously. “Thank you, Avatar,” he said. 

She had no idea if he’d take her up on it, but she at least hoped that it would be a suitable apology for failing so spectacularly to protect them. Bowing low, she collected Naga’s reins and mounted up. “On, girl,” she whispered.

 

—

 

She made it back to the Island just as the rest of the family was wrapping up lunch. She bowed her way in and quietly requested a private conversation with Tenzin. When he saw the seal burned into her skin, he swore in a very _un_ -Tenzin fashion. “Have you seen a healer?” he demanded. 

“Not yet.” The skin around the burn had blistered, but she’d been trying her best to ignore the painful throbbing. She’d managed to avoid most burns during her firebending training, and anyway, being her own healer had been blissful. Tenzin hurriedly summoned an Acolyte and told her to fetch a waterbending healer as quickly as possible. Turning back to Korra, he said, “But how are _you_ doing?”

“I…” She tried to find words, reached, and faltered. “I…I’ve never been that scared before, Tenzin. I couldn’t…there were people being threatened in front of me, and I _couldn’t do anything about it_.” She clenched her fists. “And nobody else was going to help. The neighbors, they close their shutters and look away. And the thugs said that the police don’t care. And they’re probably _right_ , because if people did care this wouldn’t be so cursed _commonplace._ ” She shook her head. “I thought that…that Republic City was this modern wonder, Tenzin, but it just makes me homesick. And, and…what good am I, if I can’t even help people?”

Tenzin hugged her tight. “I don’t have any easy answers,” he told her. “Republic City…has its problems, Korra. But you know, a lot of them could use talking about. Public acknowledgement, public concern.”

“Yeah.” Korra mulled that over. “What does Beifong say about it?”

“You should ask _her_ ,” Tenzin said firmly. “I wouldn’t dare try to lecture about her own subject of expertise. I learned that lesson a long time ago. But I think…she tries, but the police force can’t be everywhere.”

“Then she should at least be going after the ringleaders!”

“Yes, because there’s a shortage of hungry gang members.” Tenzin shrugged. “Like I said, that’s her area of expertise.”

Korra scowled. There was a feeling, like the sensation of a loose tooth _just_ before you could yank it out, and it was bothering her. Something about Tenzin’s attitude. Something about her own education as _The Avatar._ The old White Lotus codgers hadn’t bothered training her for messy urban realities like this.

Mako, she thought; Mako’s good at dealing with real-life stuff. He has to be. I’ll ask him.

 

—

 

That night, she dreamed of fire and earth and water, except this time, they all turned on her. Flame seared her, water poured into her lungs, the ground crumbled beneath her feet. Or: rocks pinning her still, fire licking up and down her clothing, water swirling in her ears and nose. She tried to bend them but they slipped away, bucking her control, and all she could do was scream.

Korra bolted awake. Her arm still throbbed, and her throat was raw from trying to shout. She stumbled into the bathroom and clenched her hands until her knuckles went white. Eventually she retched, and her stomach settled. She curled her knees into her chest and closed her eyes, willing her hands to stop trembling.

At least it wasn’t another dream about Amon.


End file.
